


On the Ice

by kitkattz



Series: The DirkJake Winter Collection [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Demonstuck, Ice Skating, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 14:41:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5378864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitkattz/pseuds/kitkattz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's only one thing Jake English can't seem to master. The problem? It seems like the only person who notices his troubles is the last person he wants to be talking to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Ice

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short, dumb thing I've been thinking about. I had a dream where Jake couldn't ice skate and kept falling on his ass, so this was the result.

"This just in: Jake English the legendary demon hunter and master of all things supernatural can't ice skate," a voice taunts as you fall on your ass for the third and— hopefully —final time. When you again scrabble to your feet, you glance up at the man who's had his amused gaze focused on you since you started this dadblasted activity.

You noticed that he was rather skilled at ice skating, however that wasn't the most important thing you noticed. The talisman beneath your jacket has been warming considerably each time he flies around the rink and past you, sometimes going backwards, and the fact that he knows you by name is rather unnerving.

"I don't believe I ever asked your opinion, now did I?" You snap back, brushing yourself off and pushing off the wall to slide your way over to him. When your skates cease moving halfway there and your realize you're too far from the wall to push off, you move to take a step, but the demon across from you simply grins and kicks the ice with the tip of his skate, sending him speeding your direction. He comes to a stop with a controlled spin, and you frown a bit in envy of his skill.

"You say that like it'll stop me from ccommenting," he snarks, eyebrows raised above ridiculous, pointy, triangular sunglasses. Who does he think he is? He's inside, there's no reason to wear sunglasses!

 _Bloody demons,_ you think to yourself, glaring lightly.

"Name's Dirk," he tells you, offering a hand with an amused expression when you almost slip again.

You take his help without thinking, latching onto his arm to stay upright.

"Well," you manage, "you already seem to know who I am, so I dont see much of a point in an introduction on my part."

You rebalance yourself, tipping up your chin to hold onto your last thread of dignity after having been not only made fun of but helped by no doubt the most skilled person currently on the rink.

As you release his arm, you catch a glimpse of his smug grin; the way he shakes his head of meticulously styled blonde hair, bright eyes watching your movement with a harsh scrutiny and a sense of infuriating superiority; and decide that you have yourself a new nemissis. 

You become even more confident in your decision when you slip again and Dirk flat out laughs at your misfortune.


End file.
